


Christmas Traditions

by BeccaAnne814



Series: Christmas/New Year’s Stories [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 02:47:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13021635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeccaAnne814/pseuds/BeccaAnne814
Summary: Everyone has holiday traditions, and you're no different.  But now that you've become an Avenger, you'll have to face the fact that your former life is a thing of the past.  Will you be able to create some Christmas traditions of your own with your new family?





	Christmas Traditions

Years of being a sniper with the Howlies, and decades spent as Hydra's pet assassin had fine tuned Bucky's senses to an almost inhuman level. Since he'd arrived at the compound in Upstate New York a few months ago, he'd kept a careful eye on everything and everyone. Or at least that's what he told himself so he didn't have to face the reality that there was only one person he was interested in keeping tabs on.

He'd been an unofficial member of the Avengers for about a month – Stark wasn't ready to trust him just yet – when she joined the team. The blond archer – Bucky had a hard time remembering names. . .even his own at times – had brought her in like a stray dog one night. No one seemed to think this was out of the ordinary, and it wasn't long before Natasha and Wanda had taken the young woman under their wing.

Bucky had kept his distance – not only from her, but from everyone – but he knew exactly where she was at any given moment. He felt stupid trying to talk to Steve about it. Every time he tried to bring it up, he realized that he was acting like a stalker. If he had to be honest with himself, when it came to YN, he became like the Soldier – totally focused on one objective and completely unconcerned with anything else around him. It terrified him that she was able to bring out that side of him, but he reasoned with himself that his feelings for her weren't malicious – just the opposite. He kept an eye on her because he was constantly worried that someone else would do her harm.

Sticking to the shadows and watching her every move had made him an expert in reading her like a book. He could tell from the slightest gesture or shift in posture what she was thinking or feeling. It was because of his constant observation of her that he immediately knew something was off before anyone else picked up on it.

He spent the better part of an hour lurking in a dark corner watching her pick at the hem of her hoodie while a Christmas movie played in the background. Every few minutes, he'd work up the nerve to approach her, only to fall victim to his insecurities and stay hidden from her view.

"Are you going to stand there all day, or would you like to join me on the couch?" YN asked, never bothering to turn around.

He could feel the heat start to rise up from his chest. How long had she known he was there? As he pondered that question, another thought sent him reeling. Was this the first time she'd noticed him, or has she been secretly watching him like he'd been watching her?

Taking a deep breath, he steeled his nerves and walked across the room. She gave him a sideways glance out of the corner of her eye as he sat stiffly on the end of the couch. She was curled up in the other corner with her feet tucked up under her and a blanket thrown over her legs, and he longed to be that comfortable around her – or anyone for that matter.

"I'm sorry?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Turning that gorgeous face toward him, she gave him a puzzled look. "What for?"

"I didn't think you knew I was there," he said, immediately regretting his choice of words. Now he really did sound like a stalker. Why couldn't he have just kept his mouth shut.

A smile slowly spread across her face as she began to laugh. "I don't know how you stayed a ghost for so long, Barnes. You may not have made a sound, but I could hear you thinking all the way over here."

"You can read minds?" he asked, his gut filling with dread. "No one mentioned you were a telepath."

That beautiful laugh rang out again as she shook her head. "No, I'm not a telepath, so don't worry that I've been reading your mind all these months. I'll leave that to Wanda, thank you very much. I just meant that I knew you were there. I don't really know how – I guess I just sensed your presence. Why didn't you say anything?"

Bucky looked down at his arm and began to flex his fingers. There was something calming about the soft mechanical whir and the smoothly shifting plates of the new metal appendage King T'Challa had created for him. He found himself bending and flexing the arm when he became nervous, which he hated to admit happened more often than not when he was around her.

"You seemed sad," he finally said.

Her bright eyes clouded over, and Bucky felt like an idiot for bringing it up. She'd been happy a minute ago – smiling and laughing – and now he'd gone and ruined everything. Maybe Stark was right, and his presence at the compound only made people uncomfortable.

She let out a deep sigh and went back to worrying the hem of her hoodie. "I guess I am."

When she didn't elaborate, the silence that filled the room began to become awkward. Bucky searched for the right thing to say, and realized that he had no idea what to do. It had been decades since he's spoken to a woman – well, to a woman he was interested in.

Taking a chance, he went with the first thing he could think of. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She shot him a glance out of the corner of her eye, trying to decide if he was serious. Barnes never talked to anyone but Rogers, and even those conversations were limited – at least in the common areas. She'd noticed him watching her, and at first she'd chalked it up to his PTSD. She couldn't fault the man for still thinking everyone around him was the enemy. As the months wore on and his watchfulness never waned, she'd decided to start keeping a closer eye on him. She'd been surprised to learn that she was the only one that he watched so carefully. She'd been worried for a few weeks, and had considered going to Rogers with her concerns, but then he'd saved her butt a few times in the field, and she'd slowly come to the conclusion that he was keeping an eye on her to make sure she wasn't in harm's way. She wondered if it might be more than concern for her safety, but she had no idea how to go about asking him. Now he was here, and they were alone. It was time to find out once and for all if he'd started to develop the same feelings toward her that she'd been shocked to discover she had for him.

"Being an Avenger isn't what I thought it was going to be," she finally admitted, casting a hesitant glance in his direction. She could see the look of shock on his face, and she quickly tried to explain. "It's not that I hate it. I love being an Avenger. I guess I just didn't think about how it would affect my personal life."

He considered her words for a moment before replying. "You miss your family."

She let out a sigh and a small smile played across her lips. "I do. I know it seems ridiculous, and most of the time I'm okay with the time constraints of the job. . ."

"But?" he asked when she paused.

"But it's Christmas."

"I see," he said, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

She could count the number of times she'd seen him smile. Two. Two times she'd seen him smile, and it had only been because of something Rogers had said or done. This time made three, and this time, he'd smiled at her.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked, not sure where this sudden burst of courage had come from.

"I don't know," she explained. "It's just that my family has all of these traditions, and the more I think about it, the sillier it seems. You know what, forget I said anything."

Bucky leaned toward her, his hand reaching out to touch her. "No, I get it. Listen, why don't you pick one and I'll do it with you."

She narrowed her eyes as she considered his offer. On the one hand, she truly did miss her family and their crazy traditions, and on the other, this would give her a chance to spend some time with him one on one.

"Okay, but only if you're sure."

For the second time that day, she got to see him smile. This one spread across his face, making his eyes twinkle, and for a brief moment, she understood why he'd been considered a notorious ladies man before the war. One look at that heart-stopping grin, and she was ready to do anything he asked.

"What are we doing first, doll?"

Between the dazzling smile and his antiquated term of endearment, she was lost. Any hope that she'd be able to keep her budding feelings under wraps flew out the window. Dear Lord, she hoped he felt the same way that she did, or this Christmas was going to go down as the worst one ever.

"Well, my family always takes a ride to look at the Christmas lights," she began.

He gave her a confused look. "What's so strange about that?"

"My family added a bit of twist to it," she explained. "We'd draw names out of a hat and split up into two groups. Each group picked a different town and we'd have a list of decorations we'd have to find – basically like a scavenger hunt. My mom would make hot cocoa to take along in thermoses, and we'd each have a tin full of homemade cookies while we searched. The team that lost had to make breakfast on Christmas Eve."

Bucky thought about the idea for a moment and decided that it sounded like a lot of fun. He was sure he could convince Steve to round up everyone to participate, but he didn't want to take the chance that he'd end up on the opposite team from YN. After a moment, he came up with an alternative idea.

"I know it won't be a competition, but maybe we can still do it, just you and me."

As much as she'd love to play the game like she'd had with her family, his suggestion appealed to her more. She was also excited that he'd been the one to pose the idea of them spending some time alone together.

"I have an idea," she told him with a sly grin. "Why don't we make our list and write it out like a Bingo card. Every time we get a Bingo. . .we can eat a cookie."

Bucky looked toward the window and saw that the sky was starting to get dark. "You make the list and I'll get the cocoa and cookies. We'll steal one of Stark's cars and head to that little town we fly over all of the time."

"Sounds like a plan, Barnes," she said as she threw the blanket off her legs and started heading toward her room.

"Bucky."

His whispered reply had her drawing up short. Turning back toward him, she found his piercing blue-grey eyes focused intently on her. "Bucky."

It was the first time she'd ever used his name. Even in her thoughts, she'd called him Barnes. Calling him Bucky seemed too intimate for their limited acquaintance, but since no one called him James, she'd stuck to Barnes. Her heart began to swell in her chest as she realized that she'd been granted access to a part of him he normally kept closed off from everyone else but Rogers.

With her spirits soaring higher than they had in weeks, she rushed to her room to prepare the scavenger hunt list. She'd never tried it any other way than her family always did, but maybe now that she'd moved away, it was time to start creating traditions of her own.

By the time she'd drawn up a hasty Bingo board with a list of her favorite decorations, Bucky was pouring the hot cocoa into two travel mugs beside a plastic container of cookies. He hadn't noticed her yet, which was a first, so she took the time to study him while his guard was down. She knew he was over a hundred years old according to the calendar, but the man before her still had the youthful appearance of someone in their late twenties. The years he'd spent as the Winter Soldier had aged him a bit – most noticeably in his eyes. Those blue-grey depths had seen horrors she couldn't even begin to imagine – both those he'd committed himself, and the one's that had been inflicted on him. Somehow he'd been able to retain some semblance of his humanity and although it was taking longer than Stark was comfortable with, he was beginning to show signs of the man he used to be.

She could have stayed there and watched him forever, but she knew he'd eventually detect her presence and she wasn't ready to admit that she watched him just as closely as he watched her. She was probably fooling herself into thinking that he hadn't noticed, but a girl had to hope that she wasn't walking around wearing her heart on her sleeve.

Once they'd sneaked downstairs into the garage, Bucky had let her choose which vehicle they were going to "borrow." As much as she would have loved to take one of the expensive, sporty little cars, she knew that it would be wiser to stick with an all-terrain. It had been snowing off and on for the past few days, and the roads would probably start to ice over before they finished their scavenger hunt.

Bucky snatched the keys from the hook on the wall and moved toward the oversized SUV . "I'll drive so you can look."

Placing her mug of cocoa in the console, she turned on the overhead light and began to read off the list of decorations they were looking for while Bucky drove the twenty miles to the nearest town. "We have the usual things: a nativity set, candy canes, all white lights, all red lights, all blue lights, multi-colored lights, blinking lights, Rudolph, an elf, presents, stockings, an angel, a giant snowflake, a giant wreath, a decorated mailbox, homemade decorations, Santa, candles in the windows, a penguin, a snowman, a nutcracker, icicles, and an inflatable snow globe."

"An inflatable snow globe?"

Remembering that he hadn't had a real Christmas in years, she began to explain the various trends in Christmas decorations that included a multitude of inflatable decorations that had become the rage in the past few years. As she was trying to explain how they worked, they came upon the first decorated house, and she was saved from further explanation when she saw how many inflatables they had filling their small front lawn.

"And here we go," she said with a laugh.

"I thought you were joking," he said as he slowed down so they could get a better look. "How many of those things do they have?"

YN began to quickly count. "I see fifteen, if you include each of the reindeer separately."

Bucky shook his head. "Wow. What is that one supposed to be?"

YN leaned forward so she could see the one Bucky was pointing to. It was two gingerbread cookies, one boy and one girl, sitting a giant mug of hot cocoa, complete with miniature marshmallows. It wasn't until she noticed that the gingerbread girl's head kept bobbing up and down that she understood Bucky's confusion. "Oh, my God, I don't think it's supposed to do that."

YN tried not to burst out laughing, but the more she watched the malfunctioning gingerbread girl, the harder it became. Finally losing it, she hid her face in her hands and started giggling.

Bucky let out a breath as he began to chuckle. "I'm so glad I'm not the only one who's mind went straight in the gutter."

"I'll never look at gingerbread cookies the same way again," she told him as she took out her pen and marked an "X" through the inflatable snow globe. "At least it wasn't a total bust."

"They also have a penguin," Bucky said as he nodded toward the list.

"Uh-uh," she said with a firm shake of her head. "Only one item off the list for each house we see."

He wanted to complain about the unfairness of that rule, but then he realized that it meant they would be in the car longer, so he kept his mouth shut. "Your game, your rules, I guess."

"Keep driving," she told him as she pointed up the road. "I think I see a nativity set."

They drove around for over a half hour before they finally got their first Bingo. YN had been grumbling about wanting a cookie, but Bucky had held firm to the rule that they didn't get a cookie until they had a Bingo. When they'd finally completely a row, she'd done a little dance in her seat and popped the lid on the container.

Once they got the first Bingo, the rest of the board began to quickly fill up. Bucky kept shooting nervous glances at the paper in her lap, trying to count how many they had left. They were having so much fun – laughing and joking with one another – he didn't want the evening to end.

"Slow down a minute," YN said, laying a hand on his arm as she looked out the window. "Do you see those lights a couple streets over?"

Bucky looked to where she was pointing, but didn't understand why she was so curious about those lights in particular. "They're just blinking lights. We've already found those."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Look at the way they're flashing. It's not a regular set of blinking lights. I have a feeling I know what it is, but I don't want to spoil it for you. Turn down this street and let's see if we can find a connecting road to get there."

Bucky did as she asked, still confused as to why this set of lights seemed so special to her. Keeping the house in his sight, he wove his way around the back streets until he found the street that led to that particular house. Pulling up in front, he came to a stop and looked over at her questioningly.

"See the sign in the yard?" she asked with a smile as she started fiddling with the radio.

"Tune your radio to 88.3 FM from 6PM to 10PM," he read aloud. "Why do we need to turn on the radio?"

Bucky's question was answered as YN found the right station and turned up the volume. To his amazement, the lights on the house and in the lawn began blinking along to the rhythm of the song playing through the car stereo. The two of them sat in the car without saying a word as they listened to the song and watched the light show that accompanied it.

When the song ended and another began, he turned to her. "That was amazing. How did they do that?"

"It's a kit you can buy," she explained. "I tried to talk my dad into getting one a few years back, but they cost thousands of dollars for a set-up like this. I've only ever seen one on the internet."

The look of pure joy on her face was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. This moment alone made the whole endeavor worth it. He shifted the car into Park, and leaned back to enjoy the show. He would have been willing to stay there all night, but eventually YN let out a sigh and suggested that they finish their hunt.

"We only have two things left," she said as she frowned at the board. "I can't believe we haven't seen an elf or a stocking."

"Doesn't Santa count as an elf?" Bucky asked.

"No," she said. "We need an actual elf, complete with pointy shoes and a green hat."

"Okay, okay," he said with a laugh. "Heaven forbid we bend the rules on a Christmas light scavenger hunt."

"Are you getting bored?" she asked, scared that he was growing tired of driving her around all night.

"Absolutely not," he assured her. "I'm having a great time, I was just teasing you."

"Okay."

They fell into an uneasy silence as he continued to drive through the empty streets of this nameless town. It wasn't until they came up to a house with the porch decorated like a living room that either of them spoke again.

"Look," she exclaimed as he slowed down. "They have a fireplace with stockings."

"One down, and one to go," he said as he watched her mark the next to last square with a giant "X." Their time together was quickly coming to an end, and he still hadn't said anything to her about the possibility of them spending more time together.

"What is that?" she asked as Bucky started slowing down. "Is that an inflatable snowman on the front porch of that house?"

Bucky tilted his head back and forth, but he couldn't make out what it was from this far away. As he neared the front of the house, he slowed down even more.

"It's not," YN said in disbelief. "Where in the world did someone find that?"

"I don't understand," Bucky said as he stared at the six foot tall blowup of a grown man in an elf costume. "Who is that guy, and why is he dressed like an elf?"

"That's Will Farrell," YN said with a giggle.

"Who's Will Farrell?"

"Oh, my God, you don't know." She covered her face with her hands as she broke out into a full laugh. "Okay, okay. Will Farrell is an actor, and that's one of the characters he played in a movie called _Elf_. Basically, he climbed into Santa's sack as a kid and grew up in the North Pole. He thinks he's an elf and he ends up going back to New York City as an adult, and well, basically, it's a stupid movie, but the point is - someone actually bought a life-sized inflatable of Will Farrell. I can safely say I've seen it all now."

Bucky was still trying to understand why YN thought it was so funny, but his musings were interrupted when he noticed her marking through the last square on the board. "You're counting that as an elf? You won't count Santa, but you're counting some actor?"

"Hey," she argued with a smug smile. "He was wearing pointy shoes and a green hat. That counts."

Not wanting to start an argument and ruin their evening, he shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I guess this means we're finished?"

She looked down at the complete Bingo board in her lap and shrugged her shoulders. "Let me turn on the GPS and we'll head back to the compound."

"That's okay," he told her as he turned the car around. "I know the way back."

"Bucky, we've been driving around for hours, how in the world do you know where we are?"

"I guess I just have a great sense of direction," he told her as he began retracing their route back to the state road that led them back to the compound.

As Bucky backed the SUV into its spot in the garage, YN looked over at him. "Thank you for this, Bucky. You have no idea how much tonight meant to me."

"I know it's not the same as being home with your folks. . ."

"Like I told you earlier," she interrupted, "it's time I started making some new traditions."

They both got out of the car, and Bucky replaced the keys on the hook by the door. YN walked up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek before heading into the building.

Bucky stood in the garage, completely frozen for a minute before the sound of a familiar voice brought him back to the present.

"Tell me, exactly, how long it is that you've been living here?" Steve asked.

"Six months, twenty-four days, and, I suppose, what two hours?" Bucky said immediately, his face flaring red at having been caught off guard by his friend.

"And how long have you been in love with YN?" Steve asked with a look that dared Bucky to lie to him.

"Um, six months, twenty-four days, and, I supposed, an hour and thirty minutes," Bucky admitted.

Steve shook his head. "I thought as much."

Bucky's eyes grew wide. "Do you think everybody knows?"

"Yes."

Bucky started to get nervous. "Do you think YN knows?"

"Yes."

Bucky let out a worried breath. "Oh, that is. . .that is bad news."

Steve laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Well, I just thought maybe the time had come to do something about it."

Bucky looked up hopefully at his oldest friend. "Like what?"

Steve gave him a wink. "Invite her out for a drink and then, after about twenty minutes, casually drop into the conversation the fact that you'd like to marry her and have lots of sex and babies."

"Not helping, punk," Bucky said with a narrowed-eyed glare.

"Just tell her how you feel, you jerk," Steve implored. "If it's any consolation, I think she feels the same way you do."

"You think?"

"Yes," Nat interjected from the doorway where she'd been lingering for the last few minutes, her arms crossed over her chest and one shoulder leaning casually against the frame. "Frankly, we're all sick of watching the two of you tiptoe around each another. I'd hoped you'd finally manned up and made a move with that Christmas light thing, but. . ." With a huff, she straightened up and walked away.

"Nat's right," Steve said, looking pained at having to admit the Russian spy was right about anything. "It's Christmas. Find some mistletoe and just kiss her already."

If it had only been Steve telling him that he thought YN felt the same way as he did, he'd probably just brush him off, but Nat's assurance was another thing altogether. That woman never failed to notice anything, and if she said that YN had feelings for him, it was a fact. Squaring his shoulders, he took a deep breath and started toward YN's room.

He'd been working out what he wanted to say as he climbed the stairs to the floor with their individual apartments, but once he was outside of her door, his mind went blank. His hand paused mid-knock, and a feeling of uncertainty settled into the pit of his gut. What was he doing? Why would a wonderful woman like YN want to be with someone like him. She came from a loving, well-adjusted family, and all he had to offer was the broken remnants of his tortured mind. How could he burden her with everything he'd done over the past seventy years?

Before he could turn and walk away, the door opened and he was met with the curious gaze of the woman who'd occupied every second of his waking thoughts for the past six months, twenty-four days, and five hours. Realizing that his hand was still in the air, he quickly lowered it and stuffed both hands into his pockets.

"I wondered how long it would take you," she said with a sly grin.

"How long it would take me?" he asked. "Take me to do what?"

She looked up and he followed her gaze to the top of the door frame where a sprig of mistletoe hung.

"That's been hanging there for two weeks now," she told him.

"And you've been waiting for. . .?"

She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer to her. "I've been waiting for you to knock on my door so I could do this."

Closing the distance between them, she hesitantly kissed him. Every fiber of her being wanted to dive in, but she knew he was still a little skittish. Keeping things light and simple, she gave him a chance to pull away. When he wrapped his right arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, she took a chance and deepened the kiss.

When his tongue swept across her bottom lip, she let out a moan and heeded his tacit request. As his tongue tangled with hers, her hands let go of his shirt and began to slide up the side of neck until they were buried in those thick, chestnut tresses that had been tempting her for ages.

All too soon, Bucky pulled away, but only to catch his breath. His eyes slowly opened as he gazed into hers. He was high on the taste of her, the scent of her, the feel of her in his arms. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. He reveled in the look of raw desire swimming in the depths of her gorgeous eyes – desire for him. All of his earlier misgivings faded away as one of her hands trailed down his neck and over his shoulder to grasp his metal hand in hers. Linking her fingers with his, she pulled him into her room and shut the door behind them. This was one Christmas tradition he would be happy to relieve year after year.

**Author's Note:**

> _Thank you for reading this story! The Christmas light scavenger hunt is a tradition my best friend and I started a few years back, and it’s one of my favorite things to do each year. Most of the events in this story actually took place this year, from the malfunctioning hot cocoa hot tub with the gingerbread cookies, to the lights set to music, and even the giant inflatable Will Farrell. If you’ve never tried it, you should definitely give it a go this Christmas season! As for the story, did you catch the stolen dialogue from one of my favorite Christmas movies? Did you like the way it ended? Do you think she’ll be able to help him heal and start to find those missing pieces of his personality he lost at the hands of Hydra? I look forward to your comments!_


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